


In the Neck of Time

by welzes



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welzes/pseuds/welzes
Summary: Left to vanish in Canaan, a dying Lucifer is visited by Belial.





	In the Neck of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on April 1, 2018.

Lucifer awoke to the sound of faint footsteps.  
  
He was lying on the floor of the shrine in Canaan where Beelzebub had left him to die, a deep fatigue set in every bone of his body. A dull wave of pain washed over his injured side, and the hand that had subconsciously wrapped around it as he was regaining consciousness twitched. His fingers, wet with blood, curled around the gaping wound.  
  
The footsteps, which had been growing louder, stopped. Something prodded the uneven remains of his severed wings, and a low gasp caught in his throat as the muscles of his back spasmed.  
  
“Well, well, well. What’s this? If it isn’t the supreme primarch, pruned of his white wings. Looks like Bubs went all-out on you, Lucifer.”  
  
Craning his head, Lucifer gazed upon the sneer of an old, familiar face who stood towering over his fallen figure. With some effort, he said the archangel’s name: Belial.  
  
“This is odd,” said Belial, his voice light and airy. “Just looking at you is getting me all hot and bothered. It’s because you remind me of someone else in your current state, you know?”  
  
Lucifer said nothing, his mind grasping at the clues and coming back to the present with thoughts of Lucilius. Belial had worked closely with his old friend, once. If current events were to be believed, then Belial had to be working with Beelzebub.  
  
“Yeah, that silence is pretty accurate, too,” Belial continued. He knelt to haul Lucifer up by the collar, bringing them to eye level. “You really are a spitting image of him. Do you think you’d mind? I’d always wondered what Cilius would have felt like.”  
  
Lucifer scowled. “What,” he began, his voice hoarse, when Belial snaked a hand around his neck and pressed their lips together.  
  
With the wings of the supreme primarch in sunders and his body in shock, he could hardly lift a hand in resistance. Yet he attempted to shrink back anyway, only to be thwarted by the firm hand bringing his head closer and deepening their point of contact. It lasted but a moment before Belial withdrew with heavy-lidded eyes.  
  
Disinterest etched onto his waxy features, Belial’s gaze drifted to the nearby cradle.  
  
“If you don’t like it, I can tear open the cradle over there and play with the toy inside. I have a fairly good idea as to what you’re keeping in there,” he said.  
  
Lucifer sucked in a breath. The sweat that had beaded his temple since his awakening felt cold against his skin. He strained to sit up straighter, lifting his head just out of Belial’s still palm. As he opened his mouth to speak—to keep Sandalphon within the safe confines of the cradle—Belial chuckled.  
  
“Belial—!”  
  
“You care so much. Too bad Sandy doesn’t see it that way, huh? Now, where we were . . . ”  
  
Then Belial was back, prying his lips open and plundering his mouth with increasing aggression until he was parallel with the floor again. Trapped under Belial’s larger frame, what remained of his wings was crushed beneath the weight of his weary body. He winced, and the involuntary jolt he gave drew a deep moan out of Belial.  
  
“Oh, and another thing,” Belial started once he’d drawn back to straddle Lucifer, “I’ve always wondered how long it had taken for Cilius to move on from this world after his very good friend had slit his throat. Let’s find out right now, shall we?”  
  
Belial struck, the motion so fast to his sluggish eyes that Lucifer felt the sharp sting on his neck more than he saw it. He pressed a hand to his throat and pulled back to find fresh blood on his fingertips.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he heard Belial say as his head started to swim, “I won’t touch your precious sub. As long as he stays in that cradle, he’s useless and the least of our concerns.”  
  
Sandalphon wasn’t useless, Lucifer thought as blood trickled down his neck and stained the floor. But Sandalphon needed more time to be purified within the cradle, and even more to construct a stable body before manifesting.  
  
He was kicked with enough force to turn his body over, his back and side howling from the assault. Were his throat not cut open, he would have coughed. Belial stepped on his head as he planted a feeble hand on the floor, deprived of the strength to right himself.  
  
“You’ve got something else of yours that I want, so I’ll be taking it now. It’s been a long ride, Lucifer. Sweet dreams—say hello to Lucilius for me.”  
  
An invisible force seemed to press against the back of his neck. Lucifer shifted against the weight of Belial's foot, glimpsing the nearby cradle in which Sandalphon lay. Then there was a splitting pain, and the shrine around them appeared to topple before his senses blacked out.


End file.
